Have you ever known a girl for so long that you just knew nothing could split you guys up? Yeah, for me that’s Hannah. Hannah is my best friend, and always has been. When we were little, everyone thought we were going to get married. That’s how close we are.
Or at least we were until Nicole happened. See, Nicole is my girlfriend. Hannah isn’t jealous; she never gets jealous of my girlfriends. It’s just that Nicole kind of hates her. Nicole’s jealous of how much time I spend with Hannah. I keep saying that there’s enough Chris Winters to go around, but Nicole doesn’t think so. We’ve only been dating a few weeks, she’ll get used to it… right?
I wake up at seven sharp and haphazardly brush my light brown hair. I throw on a Green Day shirt and some gray plaid shorts, then waltz into the kitchen to toast a waffle. I scarf down the burnt breakfast food and finish getting ready within ten minutes. My dusty old Land Rover Jeep sits in the driveway, morning sun bouncing off her rear-view mirrors. I climb in and start the engine, driving off to the last day of school.
You can tell it’s the last day of school when the first things to hit your senses are sun block, crying girls, and party invitations being thrust into your hands. I push through the crowds of people until I find Nicole. She sees me and her already bright blue eyes light up. She walks over and gives me a peck on the cheek, her short, beach-blonde hair tickling my nose. “Are you coming to my party tonight, Chris?” she asks sweetly while pressing the hot pink flyer into my hand.
I should say yes, like a good boyfriend, but the first thing to come out of my mouth just happens to be, “Is Hannah coming?” Smooth one, prince charming. Nicole purses her lips in a petit frown and looks at my with ‘sad eyes.’ “Please?” I ask while wrapping my arm around her thin waist.
She sighs and hands me a second flyer. “Fine,” Nicole says. “But you’re giving her the invite. I need to go find Brianna.” She rushes off before I can say anything else, so I set out to find Hannah.
(Note to self: bring Nicole some roses at her party.)
Hannah’s hanging out by her locker with our other best friend, Tony. Hannah and Tony are laughing about something as I come over. Tony is wearing a blue muscle shirt and his sandy blonde hair is neatly combed (for once). Hannah’s pale tangerine, medium-length hair falls loosely down her back. I race up to them and thrust the paper into Hannah’s hand. “No way. No fricking way! You seriously convinced her to let me come?”
“Well what can I say? I just have a way with the ladies.” I casually lean on her shoulder and she laughs while pushing me off. “What about you, Tony?”
He grins. “Already got the idiotic pink paper—no offense to your girlfriend.”
I smile sheepishly. “I tried to make her choose yellow, but that girl refused,” I lie. In reality, I was all for the gaudy pink, it’s Nicole’s favorite color. The bell rings and we all scatter our separate ways to class.
The day goes by in a blur of yearbooks and goodbyes. The last few seconds are filled with silence except for the tick tick tick of the last breaths of the school year. The final bell rings, and the school has erupted in noise. I run out of the classroom to my Land Rover in the school parking lot, just happening to notice the seniors finishing their graduation, hats soaring to the sky. That will be me next year. That will be Hannah. That will be Tony. That will be Nicole. It seems so far away, but so close at the same time and one question comes to mind: What happens next? I shake the thought from my mind and head home before Nicole’s party.
At 6 o’clock sharp I am ready for the party. Nicole likes her parties fancy, so I’ve got on a sky blue button up shirt tucked neatly into black slacks and a pair of Vans on my feet. I drive over to her house, a long one story with a huge back yard, with her single red rose in my hand. The lights are already flashing and music already blaring from the inside. I step up to the door and begin to ring the doorbell, but catch myself, noticing that the bell would be useless. Like classic Nicole, the door is unlocked.
It’s like a whole nother world inside her house. There are neon streamers strung every where, colorful disco balls flashing light everywhere, punch bowls, and even some beer. I make a mental note to steer clear of the beer—I’ve never had alcohol before, not starting now. The party is already being kicked into gear, and I spot Nicole shaking her curvy hips on the dance floor. Her dress is bright pink (thankfully less bright than the invites) and flows down, angled to her left side. She notices me and spins off the dance floor into my arms. She kisses me on the cheek and gives the basic “Welcome to my party, do whatever the hell you want” speech, accepts my rose and puts it in a vase on the coffee table, then gets back to dancing.
I sit awkwardly on the couch for about an hour before Tony shows up, saving my guts. Tony (again) looks sharper than usual. His hair is still neat, he’s in a green pinstripe button-up, and… is that cologne I smell? “Well, well Tony. Meeting a special lady tonight?” I ask.
He smiles to himself like it’s nothing, but I can see in his eyes that he’s eager to tell me something, but can’t quite yet. We hang like bros for about twenty minutes until Hannah shows up. And boy does she look stunning.
1
Have you ever known a girl for so long that you just knew nothing could split you guys up? Yeah, for me that’s Hannah. Hannah is my best friend, and always has been. When we were little, everyone thought we were going to get married. That’s how close we are.Or at least we were until Nicole happened. See, Nicole is my girlfriend. Hannah isn’t jealous; she never gets jealous of my girlfriends. It’s just that Nicole kind of hates her. Nicole’s jealous of how much time I spend with Hannah. I keep saying that there’s enough Chris Winters to go around, but Nicole doesn’t think so. We’ve only been dating a few weeks, she’ll get used to it… right?
I wake up at seven sharp and haphazardly brush my light brown hair. I throw on a Green Day shirt and some gray plaid shorts, then waltz into the kitchen to toast a waffle. I scarf down the burnt breakfast food and finish getting ready within ten minutes. My dusty old Land Rover Jeep sits in the driveway, morning sun bouncing off her rear-view mirrors. I climb in and start the engine, driving off to the last day of school.
You can tell it’s the last day of school when the first things to hit your senses are sun block, crying girls, and party invitations being thrust into your hands. I push through the crowds of people until I find Nicole. She sees me and her already bright blue eyes light up. She walks over and gives me a peck on the cheek, her short, beach-blonde hair tickling my nose. “Are you coming to my party tonight, Chris?” she asks sweetly while pressing the hot pink flyer into my hand.
I should say yes, like a good boyfriend, but the first thing to come out of my mouth just happens to be, “Is Hannah coming?” Smooth one, prince charming. Nicole purses her lips in a petit frown and looks at my with ‘sad eyes.’ “Please?” I ask while wrapping my arm around her thin waist.
She sighs and hands me a second flyer. “Fine,” Nicole says. “But you’re giving her the invite. I need to go find Brianna.” She rushes off before I can say anything else, so I set out to find Hannah.
(Note to self: bring Nicole some roses at her party.)
Hannah’s hanging out by her locker with our other best friend, Tony. Hannah and Tony are laughing about something as I come over. Tony is wearing a blue muscle shirt and his sandy blonde hair is neatly combed (for once). Hannah’s pale tangerine, medium-length hair falls loosely down her back. I race up to them and thrust the paper into Hannah’s hand. “No way. No fricking way! You seriously convinced her to let me come?”
“Well what can I say? I just have a way with the ladies.” I casually lean on her shoulder and she laughs while pushing me off. “What about you, Tony?”
He grins. “Already got the idiotic pink paper—no offense to your girlfriend.”
I smile sheepishly. “I tried to make her choose yellow, but that girl refused,” I lie. In reality, I was all for the gaudy pink, it’s Nicole’s favorite color. The bell rings and we all scatter our separate ways to class.
The day goes by in a blur of yearbooks and goodbyes. The last few seconds are filled with silence except for the tick tick tick of the last breaths of the school year. The final bell rings, and the school has erupted in noise. I run out of the classroom to my Land Rover in the school parking lot, just happening to notice the seniors finishing their graduation, hats soaring to the sky. That will be me next year. That will be Hannah. That will be Tony. That will be Nicole. It seems so far away, but so close at the same time and one question comes to mind: What happens next? I shake the thought from my mind and head home before Nicole’s party.
At 6 o’clock sharp I am ready for the party. Nicole likes her parties fancy, so I’ve got on a sky blue button up shirt tucked neatly into black slacks and a pair of Vans on my feet. I drive over to her house, a long one story with a huge back yard, with her single red rose in my hand. The lights are already flashing and music already blaring from the inside. I step up to the door and begin to ring the doorbell, but catch myself, noticing that the bell would be useless. Like classic Nicole, the door is unlocked.
It’s like a whole nother world inside her house. There are neon streamers strung every where, colorful disco balls flashing light everywhere, punch bowls, and even some beer. I make a mental note to steer clear of the beer—I’ve never had alcohol before, not starting now. The party is already being kicked into gear, and I spot Nicole shaking her curvy hips on the dance floor. Her dress is bright pink (thankfully less bright than the invites) and flows down, angled to her left side. She notices me and spins off the dance floor into my arms. She kisses me on the cheek and gives the basic “Welcome to my party, do whatever the hell you want” speech, accepts my rose and puts it in a vase on the coffee table, then gets back to dancing.
I sit awkwardly on the couch for about an hour before Tony shows up, saving my guts. Tony (again) looks sharper than usual. His hair is still neat, he’s in a green pinstripe button-up, and… is that cologne I smell? “Well, well Tony. Meeting a special lady tonight?” I ask.
He smiles to himself like it’s nothing, but I can see in his eyes that he’s eager to tell me something, but can’t quite yet. We hang like bros for about twenty minutes until Hannah shows up. And boy does she look stunning.